


Massage Envy

by writingramblr



Series: MCU phase 1 AU [2]
Category: MCU, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Natasha seduces everyone, UST, after avengers, angsty, heads into AU Iron Man 3, ignores Thor The Dark World basically, ooc Loki, ooc ness, ooc ness everywhere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2018-01-07 22:46:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 20,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1125289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Avengers are recovering from the battle with Loki, but he still manages to wreak havoc, even among them, while he's under SHEILD's watch. </p><p>After the Avengers go their separate ways, what will be the catalyst to reunite them?</p><p>Even after being transported to Asgard and kept under constant watch, Loki still finds ways to mess with our favorite Mortals...is there any chance of redemption?</p><p>This is a story written in two main parts, in between which i had a huge dry spell and couldn't manage to write anything. Eventually my muse returned, and i finished things up, ending the story leading into Iron Man 3, and part 3 of this series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Warming Up

**Author's Note:**

> This was a long project that underwent many changes mid-plot line and turned out WAAY different than i had originally planned. I just wanted some Black Frost smut, and then some BlackHawk...but augh.  
> It sorta shows what happens before and after the Avengers go their separate ways, some very far!

Natasha Romanoff wasn't sure how she had found herself in this position.

Loki, god of mischief, and unfortunate adopted brother of Thor was lying face down on his plush red and gold silk sheeted bed, as she stood over him, hands poised above his bare back.

He wore merely a pair of black silk boxers. She might have to kill him if he told anyone of this.

It all had started at the last meeting…

* * *

"This is an outrage! He's crazy! He shouldn't be allowed to remain on earth." Tony practically yelled, losing his normal calm.

"Trust me mortal, I have no wish to stay here." Loki replied snidely, before Thor smacked him on the shoulder.

"He must remain to make penance for a time. It is our way. We compensate for damages. He will stand trial back on Asgard in two months time, by then the BIfrost will have been repaired." He glared at his brother, who merely shrugged.

"I think we can all agree on that. Tony, you'll just have to put up with him for a while. That's all. End of discussion." Nick Fury finished, his lone eye giving Tony no room for argument.

The next week, all the Avengers had met for a follow up, the only one's missing were Bruce and The Captain. Bruce had reached a breakthrough in his research about the Tesseract, and as Dr. Selvig had been driven practically insane by Loki's possession, Bruce was their only hope.

The Captain, or Steve as he preferred, was visiting his hometown, Brooklyn, and had assured the team he wouldn't miss a mission, but wasn't up for 'Socializing…that leads to arguing.'

Nick Fury had understood, with a tight smile that the team tended to fight more than get along.

As Natasha had been walking out of the meeting room, Loki himself caught up with her, doing his best to make casual conversation, about nothing more cliché than the weather.

She turned to tell him to go jump out the window, but his bright green eyes stopped the words in her throat.

'You will forget what you were doing, and will follow me.'

Years, months, weeks, days, hours of training all flew out the window instead of him.

She was powerless to resist his magic.

* * *

Moments later she found herself stepping in two massive doors, leading to his stunning bedroom, that was truthfully 4 times the size of her city apartment.

Her jaw dropped, and she barely registered the feel of his hand at her lower back, ushering her in as he pushed the two doors shut.

His dark green cloak melted away, and he was in normal mortal clothing, but as he turned away she noticed him beginning to unbutton his black shirt.

She shook her head, the room becoming more focused, and no longer surrounded by a gold haze.

A growl rose in her throat,

"What's going on? Where am I?" she took a defensive stance, scanning the entire room.

His chuckling filled her ears, and she turned back to him, taken aback at the fact he had divested all his clothing, except his boxers, while she came to.

"My dear Russian spy, all I require are your massage skills, but you wouldn't listen to me even when I merely brought up the lack of cloud cover on our ship."

His face was truly handsome when he smiled, a genuine one, not his mischievous grins usually aimed at his brother in jest.

Her anger melted away.

She reached up to brush a stray strand of red hair behind her ear, and as she cracked her knuckles, she looked him in the eye,

"No more tricks. We're doing this my way. Lie down on the bed, try not to pass out."

He smirked at her one last time, before complying, and she stepped closer…her hands rubbed together to create warmth, and she held them above his back.


	2. Waking Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, for all that's holy, forgive the way i use the word communist. I thought it was funny, didn't care how it was used. okthanksbye.

The next morning…or whenever it was, who knew how much time had passed, after she had been bewitched by Loki, it could have been a week later for all she knew.

Natasha sat up, unconsciously noticing how soft the silken sheets felt on her bare skin.

Bare skin? She looked down at herself; she was in some black lace thing, not her Black Widow uniform, which she had been last wearing.

She turned her head towards the long backed couch that sat merely a few steps away, and her breath stopped as she registered Loki, shirtless, still in god knew what under that red sheet, watching her with his bright green eyes. His messy black hair indicated he had woken up only moments before she did, otherwise he would have restyled his hair to perfection.

"What happened after I gave you-"

"What I wanted? Oh nothing devious, I swear. I merely suggested you deserved a good night's rest, and it was no trouble for you to spend it here. Then I changed your outfit into something more comfortable."

He smirked at her, moving his hand to run it through his hair, in a hopeless attempt to style it and make it resemble more than morning after sex hair.

Her red eyebrow arched of its own accord,

"You expect me to believe that load of Fignya? Nice try." She smirked back at him, waiting for him to translate her cussword in his mind.

"I assure you madam, I am a gentleman, even after all that I've done, and would never accost a woman who was a guest, and much less one who provided me with a service I needed." He frowned, realizing how contradictory his statement of reassurance indeed sounded.

She rolled her eyes. She decided he was telling the truth, until she proved otherwise, in any case, she didn't have time to argue, she needed to get back to her place. Playing hooky only worked so long when you had a boss like Nick Fury.

God, the whole team would be talking about this one…unless…

"You won't say anything about this, will you? Or I may be forced to exaggerate what really happened last night."

He stood, the red sheet falling the floor in a crumpled heap of silk, leaving him in the smallest pair of black boxers she had been witness to,

"Of course. Wouldn't want my older brother getting the wrong idea, now would we?" his mouth curved up in a half smile, and she would have sworn on her grandmothers life, that he purposely flexed as he spoke, drawing her eyes to his bare arms.

"Nyet. We wouldn't." She hadn't the faintest clue what on Midgard he was talking about, but she couldn't form any other coherent response.

The Captain caught her glance a few times during their next Avenger meeting, and afterwards, she walked over to him, ready to ask if he wanted to grab a cup of coffee sometime, or to take a picture, as it would last longer.

But he beat her to the punch with,

"So, are you a communist?"

Her mouth actually fell open in surprise,

"Dude. I'm Russian, but we're on the same side, clearly, I've saved your ass a couple times, in case you forgot."

Steve's face wrinkled in confusion.

"'Dude?' What is this strange word?"

She felt the urge to smack the blond haired super soldier upside his head.

"It's just an expression of emphasis, amazement, or awe. In this case, awe, at your clear ignorance. I'm Russian yes, but we're on the same side, our countries get along. How could ask such a thing? Communists are more like Loki than me. Yet, you put up with being in the same room as him. Dude."

He scratched his head, and he shrugged, seeming to be having a conversation inside his head. He turned to her, and held out his hand,

"I'm sorry ma'am, I don't know what I was thinking. I just feel so out of it, with the time jump, I know I've missed out on a lot, but I can't use forgetting manners as an excuse."

She took it, trying not to notice how soft, warm and strong his hand felt around her much smaller one.

"So, how about you apologize over a cup of coffee? I know this place on 27th, they also have killer donuts." She gave him a warm smile, and when he returned it, she had to hide a blush. He should have that thing registered as a deadly weapon…


	3. Getting Out

Loki watched the two of them interact and had to keep from throwing up. The Captain America, as he was known, or simply Steve the good ol American guy, was annoyingly charming. It worked on hardened ex-soviet spies, it seemed.

She was practically giggling like a schoolgirl as she looked down at the floor as he began to talk about his childhood, smiling at her the whole time. She brushed some of her fiery red hair out of her eyes to watch him closer, and Loki sighed in impatience.

If the fool wanted to wine and dine her, he was Loki's guest. But, when, not if, she came to her senses and realized there was no chemistry between the two of them, the God of mischief would be right there, ready to rock her world, for certain.

* * *

Steve couldn't believe the stunning, beautiful, smart, not to mention very dangerous, Natasha Romanoff was actually sitting across from him, in a dinky little coffee shop.

She was beyond breathtaking, for a plain old guy who had been on…technically zero dates.

Bucky had always been the one the girls flocked to.

She said something, and gave a sad half smile, and he realized he had zoned out, and missed everything she had said, and damn, the way she was looking at him, she probably asked a question.

"I'm sorry. Could you say that again? I was too busy getting lost in your eyes."

Natasha blinked. From any other guy, that would have been just another cheesy pickup line, but from Steve, she could tell he meant every word. He hadn't been ignoring her speaking to hone in on her chest, which she had displayed a bit more than normal, but he had been watching her face.

She knew her unusual eyes sometimes caused men to become distracted, but never had she heard it put so poetically. The pigment was such a light blue that the blood of her eyes shone through, causing a strange periwinkle, almost lavender color. It was her most striking feature, next to her hair.

"Um, I was just saying, that baseball has only gotten better, since you've been to a game. I thought maybe we could go see the Yankee's play sometime, if you wanted."

His whole face lit up, like a kid at Christmas.

"That…would be unbelievably amazing. But wait, you follow American sports?"

She chuckled a bit,

"Yes I do. Remember, I was born half American, and I've lived here long enough to consider it my home."

Steve ducked his head,

'Way to stick your foot in your mouth Steve.' He thought to himself.

"Of course. Do you like other sports? Speaking of which, did you play sports in school? If they had that for girls when you attended. They didn't when I was in high school."

He smiled apologetically, certain he had made another faux pas.

She shook her head, waving her hand in the air,

"It's not a big deal. I mean, a lot has happened in the last 75 years."

She then took the rest of their cups of coffee to fill Steve in on the sexual revolution, women's rights, and anything else she felt he needed to know.

* * *

Loki stood across the street from them, watching as they exited the coffee shop, noticing how Steve's hand lingered on Natasha's elbow, he felt his jaw tighten in anger.

They parted ways, and he decided to follow Natasha, if she was simply headed back to her apartment, he might have to have a little bit of fun with her.

She ended up walking the entire way. Nearly 20 miles of walking, Loki, though he was no mere mortal, found himself marveling that she never broke a sweat. He supposed the walking helped her think.

He let her get ahead of him, and after she entered her apartment, he glanced in a storefront, perfect. He reached a hand up to run it through his now dark gold hair, parting it to the side, he gave his reflection a small smile, and started across the street.


	4. Gaining Ground

Natasha had just slipped out of her suit, remaining only in a black silk bra and matching black thong, when her doorbell rang. No one knew where she lived, except members of the Avengers, so it must be important.

She grabbed a red silk robe and threw it on hastily, rushing to the door, and as she opened it she gasped.

"Steve! What on earth? Is everything ok?"

He looked strange, but seemed alright.

He gave her a stunning smile,

"Yes of course. I just had to tell you something, in this world, where anything can happen, one moment I'm a nobody, and the next I'm a national hero, and here you are, and I can't even tell you how much you mean to me, since we've only had one date…if that was even a date." He broke off, suddenly looking unsure, and he looked down at the ground, a blush coming to his cheeks, as she realized how little she was wearing.

"Um…let me just go put some clothes on, so we can talk."

She turned to go, but he reached out to stop her with his hand on her arm. If anyone else had tried that, she would have smacked them so hard….but she just looked at him.

His hand was warm on her arm, and as he stepped closer she suddenly noticed how bright his turquoise eyes looked.

"I just wanted to tell you this…" she leaned in to meet him in the kiss, her lips feeling a fire as they moved with his, and when his tongue teased her bottom lip, begging entrance, she moaned and threw her arms around his neck, letting her robe fall open.

His hands moved from her arm to run down her sides, resting on her hips, and she felt an unconscious pull to be closer to him.

"Bedroom, shut the door…" she muttered, and he kicked it shut behind him, and they began to walk together back to her room.

After he shut that door as well, they parted long enough for her to remove her robe, and he slipped off his shirt. His eyes widened momentarily at the sight of her in merely lingerie, but he cleared his throat, and stepped towards her again.

The feel of her porcelain skin under his hands was causing his breath to speed up, and when she reached behind her back to undo her bra, he almost lost all ability to think.

Natasha looked up at him from under hooded eyes, and felt a smug grin take her face. She knew her breasts were some of her greatest weapons. She took one of his hands and guided to her left breast, loving how he seemed to be unsure what to do.

She loved him for being a virgin, it was going to make this night extremely fun.

* * *

Loki did all the virgin-esc things he knew she would be keeping an eye out for. When she finally got his pants off, and her hand wrapped around him, he didn't have to fake anything anymore, it had been too long, since before Thor was banished to earth. He didn't even remember the serving wench's name, but she hadn't been nearly as skilled as Natasha seemed to be.

* * *

When they finally were curling up together beneath the sheets, he turned her to be in front of him, so he spooned her, and for a moment he was speechless. Her red hair stuck to her neck a bit, as she was covered with a thin sheen of perspiration from their coupling, but she seemed content. He kissed her neck, and whispered goodnight.

The next morning, Natasha rolled over to Steve's side of the bed, only to find it empty. She cracked open her eyes, wincing at the sunlight that was flooding through her window, disappointed to find a small piece of paper on his pillow.

_My dearest Natasha,_

_I'm sorry to have to leave, but I figured you might want to be alone. I look forward to seeing you at our next meeting._

_-Steven._

She found herself smiling; he was sweet, in a way, and completely correct. She wasn't actually the type to snuggle the morning after. He was surprisingly smart for a 70 year old virgin who had just had his first one night stand. Once she noticed the late hour, hardly still morning, she jumped out of bed, and headed for the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GASP. It wasn't the Captain we all know and love? Yes. I gave myself a bit of a pat on the back for the genius of this idea. Typical Loki-trickster stuff. The reference to the serving wench is a shoutout to an amazing fanficlet I recently read. It's with "YOU" as the main character. OC/Loki pairing. Called 'At a Kng's Demand' Look it up on ffnet, if you're a Loki fan, you won't be disappointed.


	5. Discoveries

As she went through her morning routine she found herself picturing how it might go, with someone else. She was nearing 30, and had no plans to settle down, but she had been unable to notice the empty feeling she got everyday when she returned home.

She shook her head,

'Foolish thoughts. I am a tough, independent woman, who doesn't need a man to complete me. Ah fuck it. I'm falling for Steve.' She thought to herself, as she finished washing her breakfast dishes.

Her phone beeped as she was just stepping out of her very hot shower. The hot water always relaxed her.

She quickly threw a window open so the steam didn't kill her phone.

She unlocked it and stared at the screen,

 **Meeting 1200 hours. -** Steve

She frowned. Awfully plain vanilla for someone she had spent the night with.

 **I'll be there, I promise to wear more than my red robe ;) -** Me

She waited, in her towel, before realizing she was dripping onto her tile, not the bathroom rub.

"Shit!" she said, mostly to herself, but then her phone beeped again.

She felt like a 12 year old girl, but her heart actually skipped a beat at that sound.

 **Probably a good idea. -** Steve

"That's it?" hardly a flirty text. It seemed very monotone.

She debated calling him, but decided against it.

She'd see him at the meeting in less than an hour.

* * *

Loki grinned when he saw the text from Steve, the designated communicator. This meeting should be interesting…

* * *

As Nick Fury stepped into the center of the room, he glanced around at the Avengers, and Loki who sat next to his brother, presumably where Thor could keep an eye on him.

* * *

Afterwards, Natasha walked over to Steve, whom she had been sitting across from, trying to catch his eye all through the meeting.

"Steve, what the hell?" she hadn't meant to sound so angry, but she found herself beyond control as she looked at him, hurt for thinking him different.

Steve was confused, as he looked at her, the woman he was possibly falling for, he couldn't stand for her to be angry.

"What is wrong? What have I done?"

She gasped. Unbelievable.

Her hand flew up of her own accord, and she smacked him across the face.

To him, it was as if a feather had brushed across his cheek, and this only made her furious.

She stormed out of the room, her red hair like fire flying behind her.

Tony stood up, after she had left,

"Did I miss something?"

***

Loki smirked at the chaos Natasha left in her wake. Thor turned to him,

"Brother, do you have any idea why Natasha would do something like that? Steve said nothing wrong."

"Haven't the faintest."

Clint stood up,

"I'll go talk to her, see what's eating her."

Tony nodded, muttering,

"Clearly not Steve."

* * *

"Nat? Is everything ok?" Clint peered into the small room, and Natasha looked up, seeing it was only him, and she shrugged.

"I don't know. I thought I had something with him, but here he just ignores me after we practically spent the night together."

Clint's eyes went wide,

"You mean… with the Cap?"

Natasha nodded silently. Clint and she had the kind of history that meant hiding anything was pointless, they could read each other like open books.

He sighed, and shook his head.

"Something's not right. He wouldn't do that to you. He's like the complete opposite of Tony Stark. Tony, he'd be capable of this, but not Steve."

"Bravo, hawkman, well done." A series of slow claps emanated from the open door, and the two turned to see Loki standing there with a devious smirk.

Natasha frowned.

"Go make a nest or something." Loki waved dismissively at Clint, who glanced at Natasha, she gave him a weak nod, and he slipped out, not without nudging Loki as he passed.

"Oooh he's a bit testy eh?" he pursed his lips in mock sadness.

Natasha growled at him,

"What are you talking about? Why are you here?"

"Don't you get it?" he looked at her, tilting his head to the side a bit.

She blinked, and suddenly it all fell together in her head.

She was on her feet, inches from his face before he had time to blink himself.

"YOU." She hissed, and he actually flinched.

"Yes me. Guilty." He raised his hands in mock surrender and she stepped back, glaring at him.

"Why? Were you jealous of what Steve and I could have had? Or were _just that desperate_ for a fuck?" she spat at him.

Loki was surprised, he had not expected this much anger to come out of this little prank.

"Jealous? Of the Human Popsicle? Of course not. I wanted to make you see you were too good for him. He deserves to settle with some nice normal girl. You, you are something special. And besides, being co workers, if it hadn't worked out, it could have been very embarrassing."

"Co-workers? We're co-workers also! Or didn't you think of that? Now I'm going to kick your ass everyday for this, or perhaps I should just tell your big brother. I doubt he'll think its half as 'amusing' as you do."

She smirked at him, finally having found a victory.

Loki grimaced. Thor wouldn't like this at all; he would consider it a breach of trust, manipulating her like this. She was also friends with the beast…and the last time they had, disagreed, he had actually lost.

Hmmm.

"Let's be reasonable now. What do you want? I promise to make it up to you." He found himself asking, not begging.

Her eyes lit with a fire from within, as she began her list of demands.

"First of all, you erase that little incident from this morning from Steve's memory, as the poor man has no clue what he did wrong, which by the way is zilch. Then you will swear to never bewitch me again as you did several days ago. Then you will forget where I live, and stay away from me when not in meetings or sparring practice. UNDERSTAND?" she stepped right in his face, and stared him down.

He nodded weakly, his eyes watching her wrist, on which she wore her deadly electronic stunner, hence the nickname 'Black Widow.'

She released him, and stepped back,

"Now get the hell out of my sight before I change my mind."

* * *

Loki strode down the hall, fuming silently. He couldn't believe that mewling quim had beaten him again. As he passed Steve in the hall, he waved his fingers, calling upon his psychic magic. Seconds later Steve was whistling again, and heading in the direction of Natasha's office.

There. At least part of her demands had been fulfilled.

He'd find a way to get back at her.


	6. Traveling

A knock on the door drew her attention from the file she was reading, she looked up to see Steve poking his head in the door, a smile gracing his extremely kissable lips.

She shook her head, she hadn't kissed him like that…it had been Loki. Damn him!

"Hey there. How are you doing?"

She smiled warmly at him,

"I'm just fine thank you. How are you? Up for some late lunch? I'm tired of being cooped up in here."

He nodded and held his arm out, she took it and together they left her work behind.

* * *

She was unable to keep from laughing. Though her morning had been so bipolar, just sitting here joking around with Steve had cheered her up immensely.

He smiled at her over his glass of iced tea, and she melted again.

"Maybe we could go see a movie sometime? You've got a ton of pop culture to catch up on you know." She winked at him and he blushed.

"I don't suppose people go see movies on dates just to hold hands in the dark? Erm, I mean..." he broke off but she thought it was sweet.

"I bet they still do." She reached across the table to set her hand over his,

"But it's ok to hold hands in broad daylight too."

His fingers laced through hers, and as he set his glass down, and caught her eye, he said,

"You're truly something like I've never met before. So completely modern, yet willing to sit and listen to me reminisce. Do I ever become boring or tiresome?"

His eyes were sad, and they seemed to beg her not to say yes.

The truth was, she found his childlike innocence endearing, and refreshing.

She had no difficulty shaking her head.

"You're the amazing one. To be thrust into a world that has completely changed some would say, for the worse, but you seem to take every punch in stride."

There was that stellar grin again, and as he reached for his wallet to get the check, she didn't fight him. It was nice to be taken care of sometimes.

* * *

Her dreams however tended not to be quite as cheerful as her days. She constantly relived the battle with Loki, all the close calls with the Chithari, she re-imagined the way Steve and Bruce had found Iron Man, as she and Clint finding Steve unconscious, near death, underneath rubble downtown, his shield discarded who knew where. She knelt beside him, unable to find a pulse, and she looked up to see Loki grinning down at her, his voice echoing in her mind,

"Just me now. Looks like your precious Captain couldn't compete.

"Wake up, it's over." His voice changed, growing deeper,

"Wake UP!"

She sat up straight, the bed-covers whooshing back with the force from her awakening, and she turned to see Clint beside her, for real, in full uniform.

"Wha? What happened?"

"You were screaming 'No, Not him!'and thrashing around." He stepped back, glancing her over,

"You ok Tash?"

Her head fell into her hands, and he set one of his onto her shoulder.

"You were scaring your neighbors, and my knocking down your front door didn't even wake you? Maybe you need some sort of medication, dreamless sleep? Does Nyquil work for you?"

She looked up at him, her eyes bright through her mussed red curls.

"Seriously? You think doping me up is going to rid my brain of the nightmares?"

He cracked a smile,

"Worth a shot."

"Surely you're not just here to comfort my damsel in distress problems."

"We have a new assignment. We're escorting Tony to his L.A. branch of the Stark Expo. Fury wants to keep a semblance of a team, and make sure Tony doesn't cause too much trouble. We're more like assisting him." Clint shrugged, and he grinned again, as she groaned in frustration.

"Can't Pepper handle that?"

"Apparently he distracts her too easily." He smirked a bit.

She rolled her eyes.

"Alright, let me just pack a few things."

"Meet cha downstairs Tash, in say 20 minutes?"

She nodded and ran a hand through her haphazard red curls, her mind rapidly running through her meager wardrobe.

***

The entire plane ride from New York to L.A. Tony and Pepper sat across from each other exchanging flirting glances like teenagers.

Natasha rolled her eyes, one of these days he would need to grow a pair and propose already.

Clint caught her glance and nodded at them, seeming to echo her thoughts, she nodded wearily back and shook his head.

Tony liked to be neat and tidy when it came to work, but he was known to procrastinate in his life problems.

Natasha's cell phone chirped, and she glanced down at it, finding a text from Steve.

**_How's the flight going? Stark causing any trouble?_ **

She smiled, and texted him back,

**He's not doing anything! I'm ready to toss him out the door if he doesn't quit making goo-goo eyes at Pepper.**

**_Go for it :-)_ **

She glanced at Clint, who was watching her closely, and she mouthed "It's Steve," and he nodded knowingly.

She hadn't exactly spread the word she and the Captain were dating, but no one knew her like Clint did, and he had given her his blessing.

The sun was setting as they finally touched down, and as the group made their way to Tony's villa, the city was just seeming to wake up, lights coming on, and the streets became busy with people making their way to clubs and restaurants.

"Dinner?" Clint asked her with a raised eyebrow as he escorted her from Starks jet, and as she watched Tony and Pepper get into their own limo, she nodded at Clint,

"I'm starved."

* * *

Somehow, the burger joint was still busy even at 2 a.m. in the morning. Yet she and the archer went almost unnoticed, in the sea of college kids and after partiers.

"So what's the agenda for tomorrow?" Natasha asked him, her mouth almost full and thus garbling the question.

Clint almost snorted out some of his vanilla milkshake through his nose.

"Nat…please chew and swallow. I don't want to have to give you the Heimlich, then they would really talk."

She rolled her eyes and swallowed carefully.

"Tony thinks we're sleeping together already, what's the harm in you saving my life? Hmm?"

He shook his head, chuckling a bit.

"Who do you think started that rumor?"

"Tony himself of course. After he heard the little Budapest comment during the battle, he assumed it meant something else."

She shrugged and continued,

"That man spends half his day with his mind in the gutter. Did I ever tell you what he said the first day we met? After I beat up his business man, he said to Pepper, 'I want one.' Like I was some sort of doll for sale." She rolled her eyes again.

The man was insufferably a ladies' man, except when it came to Pepper. She was the only one who had any semblance of control over him.

"We're just going to go with Tony to the Expo, and probably have to go to some party after wards. So we should get to the hotel and get some sleep." He winked at her, "We've got separate rooms, just in case."

She laughed at him and tossed her wadded up napkin at his shoulder.

"Let's move out."


	7. On the Way Back

Stark was in his element throughout his presentation, and as Natasha watched Pepper give him a hug and kiss on the cheek, she couldn't help smiling at them. They made a nice looking couple.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she looked away, distracted.

Clint stood on the other side of the stage, behind the light crew, but he was keeping a close eye on her as much as Tony and Pepper.

She glanced at the screen,

 ** _Miss me? –_** Unknown

**Should I? Who is this?**

She frowned, for such an advanced device, she had thought it would prevent spammers or strangers.

 ** _Well it's not your golden boy. I stole his phone and disguised the number. He'll never notice it was gone.-_** Unknown

She frowned at the screen. Loki. Of course. He couldn't leave her alone like he promised.

* * *

Loki smirked at the Captain's phone. It had been a simple matter of distracting him with an illusion, and he had swiped the phone quickly, hoping to just bug the Black Widow for a moment, but she was being delightfully confrontational.

He smiled at her response, only she could convey such poison just over text.

**_Why don't you go fuck yourself?_ **

**_I'm sure it's possible._ **

**_Then fall off another bridge while you're at it.-_** Natasha

 **I think you might miss me then. You wouldn't be able to sleep with your Captain again. –** Unknown.

* * *

Natasha actually growled at her phone, and Pepper unfortunately heard her.

"Problems?"

"Oh nothing. The security is airtight here. We're ready to move."

Pepper nodded, and whispered something to Tony.

"Drinks, my place."

He waved his hand at everyone one last time and began making his way to the silver Lamborghini that waited in front of the convention center.

"We're done here." Natasha muttered into her cuff com, and Clint nodded at her from across the stage.

She firmly turned off her cellphone before Loki could send another annoying text her way, and began heading after Tony and Pepper.

* * *

Loki frowned, she hadn't replied to his text, so he called her quickly, straight to voicemail. The little mewling quim had turned off her phone.

He sighed; perhaps he had pushed too much. She was working out there after all, but she was just so much fun to tease. Even though he had promised to leave her and Steve alone, he hadn't exactly broken it. He quickly deleted their conversation and put the phone back in Steve's jacket pocket.

Not a moment too soon, as the golden boy himself came around the corner, seeing Loki casually leaning against the doorframe, he nodded to him and strode into his room, heading straight for his jacket.

***

Natasha collapsed into the large leather sofa, completely spent. She thought fighting was wearying, but she hadn't been to one of Tony's parties in a while. It was nearly 5 a.m., and she thought she could see the sun trying to push the moon out of the spotlight.

She rubbed her eyes, cursing when they came away smudged with black.

"Forgot to take off your makeup before relaxing?" Clint's voice teased from the kitchen, as he began to brew some coffee.

"Don't do that…you won't be able to sleep at all."

"Umm, that's kind of the point Nat. I'm used to pulling all nighters. Being Tony's babysitter implied that would be necessary."

She frowned at him, but the way her eyes resembled a raccoons made it difficult to keep a straight face.

He started chuckling and she rolled her eyes.

"I guess I better go wash up. And I will be getting some sleep, so excuse me for using earplugs."

"And when would the duchess like to be woken up?" he smirked at her.

"It better not be before lunchtime." It was early, or late, Sunday morning, so Tony wouldn't have any gallivanting to do, unless he had suddenly become religious.

"Goodnight your majesty."

She replied with one finger behind her and she could still hear him chuckling as she headed to the shower.

* * *

Clint sat back in the bar stool, perched on the edge, with a hot cup of coffee in his hand, and his cellphone in his other.

Thor had been texting regular updates from SHEILD. Clint had never imagined Thor could master such advanced tech, but clearly Jane had taught him a few things in a short time.

Steve was doing well, mostly sparring with other agents, and yet Thor mentioned he had been looking down lately. Perhaps he would ask Natasha to give him a call.

Loki seemed to be holding to his word, though he wasn't above a few pranks now and then.

Clint texted his thanks to the Asgardian for the update and signed off.

He sipped his coffee slowly, and felt the familiar buzz begin. He was at his best after a night without sleep, as strange as it might sound. After all, Hawks tended to be nocturnal.

* * *

 _3 weeks later_  

Natasha let out an audible sigh of relief. This had been the most un-rewarding assignment yet, she made a note to personally smack Fury when they got back to SHEILD headquarters.

The roar of the jet's engines managed to sooth her into a light sleep.

She couldn't hold back a sigh as a pair of strong hands began to massage her upper shoulders. She cracked her neck, and smiled, turning to thank them, but was taken aback to find Loki, dressed in black silk slacks, and a dark emerald green dress shirt.

"Enjoying yourself? I just thought I would return the favor, though it is long overdue. And this is only all in your head. It's the thought that counts, that's how you mortals put it correct?" he smirked at her, his green eyes sparkling with mischief.

She opened her mouth to retort, but he began to move his hands again, using his thumbs to dig deeper into her muscles, and she found herself at a loss for words.

She wondered how he was able to get such friction, and when she glanced down she was stunned to realize she was only wearing a black lace bra on her upper body. A quick assessment elsewhere revealed she was in silk black boxers, along with the bra. Hardly appropriate attire for such a thing.

Then again, she had little real control over her dreams, especially if he was the one pulling the strings.

The hands paused momentarily, and she heard him flip off the cap of something, then his hands resumed their ministrations, a feeling of heat spreading across her shoulders and down her lower back.

"What is that?" she nearly sighed.

"Warming gel. I thought it might help relax your muscles." His smile was evident in the tone of his voice.

The feeling spread through her, not stopping until it reached her core. Her eyes snapped open as she realized she was becoming slightly aroused by this entire massage session. The fact she could feel the heat from his breath on her neck wasn't helping in the slightest.

* * *

* * *


	8. Only Dreaming Mostly

Loki bit his tongue to hold back a moan. He could practically smell her, and the fact he had caused her to become like this didn't escape him, in fact his black pants were becoming slightly uncomfortable, and he was glad she was facing away from him, as she would have likely tried to karate chop him for his audacity.

Not that she would win, even though it was her dream, he was in control.

Her skin felt soft as his silk pants, and was the delicious color of cream, with freckles like specks of cinnamon.

He leaned down, close enough to smell her hair and was delighted to note her sharp intake of breath.

He turned to whisper in her ear,

"Did I hurt you?"

"No. But I might hurt you if you don't cut the shit and kiss me."

In a blur of speed that might faze another mortal, she was up from the chair and fiercely capturing his lips in her own. Lush and soft, and tasting a bit like her mint chap-stick, he found himself unable to find a retort.

The heat nearly radiated off her lace covered breasts as they pressed against his shirt, and he decided to just go with the moment. He hadn't intended this, but now she was in the lead and he had no problem with where things were headed.

She pressed a hand to his chest, not without noticing how his breathing had sped up as well, and she began to walk him backwards to the enormous black sheeted bed that had appeared on the other side of the room.

"Neat trick, my lord." She looked at him from under her eyelids, and licked her lips, and he bent down to kiss her again, as his hands swiftly began to unbutton his shirt.

She put her hands around his now bare neck and wove a hand through his long dark hair absentmindedly.

After he discarded his shirt, his hands snaked their way around her back, and right before he undid her bra, she shook her head, nodding to the lights.

"Turn them down a bit. I…"

She broke off and looked away.

"You're stunning, and exquisite creature, and if you were from Asgard, you would be worshiped night and day. As it is, you should be here as well." He brushed a stray lock of red hair out of her eyes, and kissed her, more gently this time, and he slowly pulled off her bra.

They collapsed onto the bed, and the feel of Loki's bare chest against hers only served to highten her anticipation.

The last time they had slept together, it had been a lie. This time, it wasn't real, but felt true.

His hands made their way down her hips, and he stopped with his thumbs looped in the elastic of her boxers, their eyes met, and she nodded.

He slid them down and off and closed his eyes, just breathing in the scent of her arousal.

After he pleasured her, and showed just how useful his silver tongue could be, he crawled back up to hover over her, his pants suddenly gone, and the weight of his arousal pressing against her thigh, he thrust in swiftly.

She wrapped her legs around his back forcing him in deeper.

She gasped and began meeting him thrust for thrust.

She bit her lip as she felt her climax approaching, and the labored breathing she could feel through his chest indicated his was as well.

Her nails made a ragged path down his back, and he hissed, not from pain, but the fact that he was causing her to turn in to a wildcat.

He came with a roar, and swore he saw stars.

Seconds after he pulled back and turned over, she reached down below the bed, grasping the hard cold steel into her hands, and turned back to shove it in his face,

"This is for Clint." He had barely registered the Glock 17 in his face before he heard the click, saw the flash, and awoke with a start, bright white having exploded in front of his eyelids.

***

The anger had showed in her hazel eyes, even after they had just made love and experienced a high like no other, proving that she truly was a cold blooded killer, and hated him more than he had realized.

* * *

Natasha awoke moments after, the feel of the gun recoil still a phantom ache in her arms.

Reality indicated she had fallen asleep in a chair, in an unusual and uncomfortable position, causing the strange muscle fatigue.

"You alright Tash?" Clint's voice brought her back from her trance; she had been trying to remember what could have brought on the dream.

"Yes, thanks. How did I get here from the plane?"

She looked around and they were back in their quarters in Stark tower.

"I carried you. You looked so peaceful, and Tony was making annoying remarks, so I brought you here. I figured you needed all the sleep you could get."

She nodded thoughtfully.

"Thanks again. I'm surprised I didn't try to attack you while I was asleep."

"You did. But I knew you didn't mean it and were just dreaming. At one point you whispered my name, in a mumbled sentence. I didn't know you talked in your sleep." He grinned at her.

She groaned. She remembered that. It wasn't what he thought, but she had to admit it was a little funny.

She put on a grin of her own,

"Did I? I wonder what you were doing."

"No doubt I was fucking you into the headboard until you cried for mercy."

She chuckled,

"Yeah, that's what Tony would think."

He glanced outside, the sun was just barely beginning to peer over the horizon, and he nodded to the coffee pot,

"Want a cup?"

Natasha ran a hand through her unruly red curls, and nodded,

"It'll have to wait til I get out of the shower though. Hopefully it'll wake me up a bit more."

* * *

Steve made his way down to the kitchen, glad for once he had his own private suite. As he began brewing his own large pot of strong coffee, he could have sworn he heard singing through one of the air vents.

He stopped directly below the vent and listened, it sounded like a scratchy, yet pleasant version of a song he had heard in a musical movie Tony and Pepper had urged him to watch.

"…When will I begin? To live again…One day I'll fly away, leave all this to yesterday. What more could your love do for me? When will love be, through with me? Why live life from dream to dream? And dread the day, when dreaming ends…"

The tone was so bittersweet, he found himself setting down the pot and heading to the elevator.

He recognized that voice now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All credit for the song goes to original writer. This version was the one sung by Nicole Kidman in Moulin Rouge. I rather thought it fitting that it would be a favorite film of Tony and Pepper and I could see them encouraging Steve to check it out.


	9. Saying Farewell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This the last chapter of the first main part to this story! It was written the way it is because I *thought* i was done...

Natasha wasn't one to usually sing in the shower, but she found herself humming a song that had appeared on the forefront of her mind, like songs do. When she reached the chorus she began to sing out loud. She hoped the water would drown her out, as she didn't want to break any windows, or give Clint a heart attack.

As the final note fell from her lips, and she switched off the water, reaching out a hand blindly to find her plush purple towel, she heard the door crack open.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be quiet so loud Clint."

"You weren't." A smooth light voice answered, and she looked out from the door to see Steve standing there, and his baby blues widened a bit as he caught an eyeful.

She quickly wrapped the towel around herself but he had turned around already.

"Steve, what on earth?"

He couldn't hide his blush and he looked down at the bathroom floor in embarrassment,

"I heard you singing, and you sounded so sad, just like the woman from the movie. I could tell you meant every word. I missed you so much, and I couldn't wait to see you."

"Hey, it's ok. It's my fault for losing touch. I just couldn't keep up with contact when every day was spent in constant activity." She reached out a hand, stroking his hair, and he turned back to face her.

Her hair clung to her head, damp strands of dark red still dripping onto the fluffy towel she wore. His mind was desperately trying to scrub away the image of her soaking wet, bare from her neck down, but it was a losing battle.

Her skin radiated heat from the hot shower, and was still damp, and he reached out to push her hair away from her eyes, and she met his blue eyes with her hazel ones, for once showing emotion, and he couldn't stop himself from leaning down to kiss her.

Somehow the towel fell to the ground as she was pulled flush to his body, and he didn't seem to notice she was getting his clothing a bit damp, but she noticed the fact he seemed to be enjoying it.

The front of his khaki pants showed an evident bulge, and when she reached down to rub him, it was as if a switch had flipped.

He traced his hands down her sides, and she let out a little gasp into his mouth as they found her bare ass, he picked her up swiftly, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, grinding her core on top of his pants, unable to control her need for him.

"We should probably move somewhere else." She muttered into his ear, before she stuck out her tongue to trace the delicate whorls and nibble a bit on his earlobe.

He nodded, and let her down so she could retrieve her towel, and they quickly made their way back to her room, as it was closer than his.

Luckily she didn't have to pass the kitchen and possibly catch a lecture from Clint.

She kicked the door shut and carefully locked it, turning back to Steve, who had been staring out her window.

Being on the East side of the tower meant a stunning view of the sunrise, but she had had the drapes closed, obviously Clint had thrown them open to prevent her from trying to go back to sleep.

He was an early riser and expected the same out of her no matter how often she told him she hated it.

"Like the view?"

Steve nodded silently, and when he turned away, and faced her again, she had lain down on top of her dark blue sheets, still naked, with only a strategically placed pillow to prevent him from blushing again.

"I think you're more beautiful though." He said quietly.

She smiled, he was just too sweet.

"Come here." She said simply, and he obeyed.

He knelt down beside her on the bed, and she sat up to meet him in a kiss, her arms wrapping around his neck and he put his around her back, pulling her close, and reveling in the feel of her in his arms, completely bare, and willing. Yet something stopped him. They had been on about 3 dates, regularly corresponded, excepting the trip to L.A., and though the chemistry was undeniable, something just didn't feel right.

"Do you…love me?"

She pulled back and frowned,

"Getting right to the point are we? Love is for children. We're adults. This is something different than that."

She hated falling back on that saying, but she was scared. Scared of falling for him, when they were about to be thrown back onto the front lines. Only tomorrow morning Thor was to escort Loki back to Asgard, to stand trial.

She knew it was likely nothing would happen, Loki would find a way to get off scot free, or at least only on the Asgardians version of house arrest.

He deserved whatever he got. He had tricked her one too many times for her to feel any sympathy for him.

He could return in the future with another alien army, and then where would they be? She wouldn't be able to focus on anything if she fell in love with him. She'd worry every second, 'Is Steve alright?' though he was far from helpless, he had an innocence that made him vulnerable.

A tear fell down her cheek, and he saw it before she could wipe it away.

"But we shouldn't. We should never get too deeply involved. It could compromise us both."

Steve couldn't bear to see her upset. He reached out to wipe her tear away, even as another fell.

"Don't worry about it. I've fallen for you, and I don't care what you did in your past. I just want to be part of your future."

She laughed, a horrible sound, and even as she did, more tears fell.

"I can't have one. All I can do is be a pawn. First it was for 'Mother Russia', then the KGB, now it's for America, and SHEILD, and Nick Fury. I have no future as a sweet little wife, with the picket fence, cooking an apple pie for her husband. A baby on each arm. I can't even have children."

She looked away, unable to meet his gaze.

Steve sighed, and pulled away slightly, though he kept his arms around her.

"That's not what I would ever ask of you. I understand how it is for women nowadays. But I can't help feeling like I will want that. Even though I say it now. Everyone wants to continue their legacy, and most do through children. If it's better we remain friends, colleagues, teammates, then I will respect that."

She smiled through her tears,

"Thank you. You have no idea how that makes me feel. I do care for you, but right now, it's not practical. I'm sorry."

She stood, suddenly feeling embarrassed about her nakedness, and how much emotion she had shown to him.

Steve stood as well, pulled his shirt back together, and nodded to her, leaving the room silently.

She put on her nearest robe, and walked out into the kitchen, doing her best to ignore Clint's loud silence. He glanced towards a black mug, with an eagle on the side.

"Thanks. I could use it now I think."

She picked it up and padded back to her room, shutting the door gently behind her.

She knew that Clint would ask questions later, but she didn't feel like talking about it right then. She sipped her coffee, watched the sun begin to rise, and tried to ignore the lump in her throat.

* * *

Natasha Romanoff never cried.

Certainly not about love.

Love was for children.

***

Steve Rogers stood beside Bruce Banner, leaning against one of the expensive sports cars Tony had bought them, and they observed carefully as Thor escorted Loki, who was shackled and, for some strange reason, gagged with some sort of muzzle device Fury had apparently deemed necessary, the two stood in the middle of the street, and suddenly a thunderous sound was heard.

Thor looked up, and they all did quickly, seeing a blue haze surround the Asgardians, and they dissolved and shot upward, the portal closing and disappearing just as quickly as it appeared.

Steve glanced over at Natasha, who stood beside Hawkeye-Clint, a small smile appeared to be sneaking its way onto her face, and she noticed him staring.

Too late to look away, he met her gaze, and nodded, and amazingly she nodded back.

He knew whatever they had thought they had was over, but he still couldn't help the strange feeling he got in his stomach whenever she smiled. She could light up a room if she wanted, and as they drove their separate ways, he found himself hoping she would find someone to help bring out her inner light.

No one should suffer the weight of their past alone.

* * *

Loki had not foreseen the complete dissolution of the Black Widow and the Captain's romance before it hardly began, but it didn't make him feel any sympathy for her. Now they were even. Perhaps this warranted a little trip down memory lane for the goody two shoes captain. In mere moments, he restored the memories he had wiped from Steve at her request, and he placed the little scene between him as Steve and Natasha in his memory as well. That might change his mind a bit.

He didn't know why he was doing this, as it would likely cause them to make up, but it might also gain him the Captains trust.

It made her look like the one who had something to hide. It also showed that she cared for him more than she had admitted. Steve would see the encounter as a fantasy of hers, rather than what it truly had been.

He sat back in his cell and chuckled softly,

"Let the games begin."

* * *


	10. The Long Drive

Natasha had watched with guarded awe as Thor had led his adopted half brother into the courtyard, taking the container with the mysterious cube in it, and with a simple twist, he and the trickster were gone from Earth.

Clint tapped her on her arm, she hadn't realized she had been staring at the same spot for over a minute. Stark and Dr. Banner were departing together, and she waved at them, absentmindedly.

Steve took off a lot quicker on his motorcycle, and she was glad for the reprieve. What more could she have said?

Clint snapped a hand in front of her, and she finally pulled herself into the present.

"Where did you want to go Tash? We've got a big check to cash, and then the world's our oyster." Clint grinned at her, and she felt herself relax slightly.

"Let's make it somewhere with a nice sandy beach." Clint nodded, and as he held the car door for her, she gave him a grateful smile.

* * *

"Everything okay? You seemed a bit out of it." He asked her quietly, as they walked through the airport, having touched down in the south of France barely thirty minutes previous.

Natasha shrugged, still slightly unsure of everything. All that had transpired in just the last month, she was still trying to wrap her mind around it.

"What you said before, right after coming back, about being unmade…you were right. I tried to hide it, but Loki did get to me. Unfortunately, I wasn't the only one hurt in the process. Loki swore he erased the evidence from Steve's memories, but I don't know if I can trust him." She broke off, and could feel Clint's shocked eyes on her.

"WHAT? You made him mess with Steve's mind? I never would have thought…" he stopped, and shook his head.

Natasha's head fell into her hands, suddenly pounding in a painful ache.

"I know. It was a bad call. But I was so scared he would hate me. I couldn't have him thinking of me like that. Loki messed with me more than I could control. I had to have some leverage."

Clint raised his eyebrows at her, and exhaled deeply.

"Well I guess it's out of your control again."

Natasha bit her lip, the pain bringing focus,

"Here's hoping we'll be far away if and when the memories come back."

* * *

Once they reached the rental car place, and Clint had been talked into getting a bright red Porsche, they had set off for the coast of Monaco. Later that day, and after several hours of driving, Clint could still feel the frustration in the air. He turned to see her rubbing her temples,

"What's wrong Tasha? What's bugging you? Whatever it is, you know you can tell me."

She shook her head slightly; her messy red curls catching the setting sunlight, making it look as if a dying fire was surrounding her tired eyes.

"This whole thing. The last two months. What a disaster. Even further back was that thing with-" she broke off, huffing in slight annoyance and Clint smirked, finishing the thought for her,

"Stark? Yeah I couldn't believe it until Fury updated my Intel on you."

Natasha frowned, glancing over at him

"Fury shows you my file? Honestly that man...ugh. Stark was a picnic compared to Loki, trust me. Loki is a nightmare. I'm just glad he didn't end up hurting any more people."

Little did she know how wrong she was.

As the two spies drove through the winding roads, both were eager to reach the lodgings for a bit of rest. Something that hadn't come easily in the last few weeks. Luckily, the countryside of Monaco gave itself quite freely to a relaxing air and sense of comfort. The small villa they were going to be retreating to, courtesy of S.H.E.I.L.D. was known as a popular honeymooning spot. That was their cover story for their vacation, a young couple happily escaping busy metropolitan city life for a couple weeks in the country.

It was something Natasha felt like she had needed for nearly a decade.

***

 

* * *


	11. Home in the Realm Eternal

Steve's mind was a blur of images, and as he reached for the doorknob to his apartment, he cried out in pain as a sudden flash seared through him.

He gripped his forehead; it felt as if an angry porcupine was stumbling around his skull.

The final glance at Natasha that morning had been reassuring, but the memories that now flooded through his mind's eye didn't belong to him, though he recognized himself kissing her, holding her, doing unspeakable things.

His blue eyes flew open and he knew he needed to speak with her; this kind of thing could have only come from Loki. His mind tricks somehow were affecting him even across space.

* * *

A haze of golden light appeared in the hallway outside of Loki's cell, and it distracted him from his ancient Asgardian text he had been perusing half interestedly.

The haze formed into a solid shape, and then fizzled away to reveal Lady Sif.

Long waves of jet black hair fell around her face, which held a somber expression. Loki couldn't help but grin a little at the memory of how her hair had come to be that way.

She was clad in a beautiful golden dress, that skimmed the tops of her yellow sandals, with a sheer golden wrap around her shoulders and arms, more for the look than to keep warm. She stepped closer to his cell, and reached out a hand to touch the barrier,

"Loki. How has it come to this?" she asked softly.

He frowned,

"I don't want your pity. Everything I did, was for the good of…" he broke off, suddenly unsure. Now that he was imprisoned, or at the very least as Thor insisted, merely kept here until the All Father decided he was able to rejoin society, he was not quite sure what he was fighting for.

"What could have hurt you so much you sought vengeance against all humanity?"

He stood, anger suddenly coursing through his veins, and he slammed a fist against the wall, remembering too late the consequences for that action.

As he lurched backwards, recovering from the painful jolts of blue energy, he saw Sif's face soften.

Finally he spoke.

"They are so hypocritical, so pathetic. I didn't wish to destroy them, merely to control, to rule. I would have brought order, peace, two things they sorely need."

Sif shook her head,

"They have peace. At least, most of them do. You could not hope to change their very nature. They are simply not advanced enough to know that in-fighting won't help them further themselves."

Loki raised an eyebrow at her in disbelief,

"How can you stoop so low as to even think of comparing them to us? Nothing would help them get past the stage of constant war and confrontation. Within the peaceful countries, there is smaller strife, between the mortals over the smallest of things, like the color of their skin, or the amount of income one makes. They will never be able to get past that. They will never be like us. We, who they mistake for Gods. We were never like them."

"Perhaps not in your lifetime, but the All-Father has seen much more time than you. Every race deserves their place in this universe. They all have a purpose. Merely not having achieved it yet is no crime." Though the mortals deemed her the goddess of war, she was not that in any way shape or form.

Loki shook his head,

"But you have not spent even a second among them! I spent months, I watched carefully, planning every move. It is not challenging to integrate into their society, I merely skipped over the niceties."

Sif looked thoughtful.

"Are you saying that if you had been able to move among them, look as one of them, and experience their ways of life, perhaps you would not have acted so rashly?"

Loki shifted his glance from where she stood, her eyes saw too deeply into his mind at times when he least liked it.

"No. It would make no difference. Of that I am certain."

Lady Sif sighed deeply, and nodded,

"Very well. Thank you for your time, Prince Loki."

He glanced up at that formal address, but she had already left in a blur of golden mist.

* * *

A loud knock sounded, echoing around the great room where Thor stood, watching the rainbow falls absentmindedly.

"Enter!" he called, and when he caught a whiff of lilacs and freesia he knew his visitor was Lady Sif.

He turned to her with a warm smile, a greeting ready to spring forth, but at the sight of her sad face, it dyed on his tongue.

"Whatever is the matter?"

She gave him a brief smile, before her face turned serious again,

"I think the Prince is ill. Something about the way he tried to reason and justify his actions on Midgard. He seemed very hesitant about where his anger with the mortals really came from. I sense that he might not have been completely himself during the invasion and subsequent battle."

Thor was not as surprised by this line of thought as one might expect.

He stroked his beard slowly, a frown crossing his forehead,

"I agree. He seemed almost regretful when I confronted him at Stark Tower, after the portal had been revealed to be locked open. He said something like, 'Nothing and no one can stop it.' Almost as if he wasn't in control. You may be on to something."

* * *


	12. Morning in Monaco

The warmth of the sunshine on Natasha's face, streaming in through white silk curtains was what woke her. It was a delightful way to be awakened from a dreamless sleep.

She rolled over in the sheets, stretching lazily like a cat would, relishing the feel of the 500 thread count and the softness of the goose down comforter. She finally opened her eyes, stunned to find Clint still sleeping, just barely inches away from her.

She sat up quickly, her red curls falling in her eyes,

"Clint! What is going on here?"

He grumbled and muttered something she couldn't quite understand, and she nudged his shoulder, stunned to see he was shirtless, but hopefully not naked underneath the covers.

She was thankfully still clad in her black slip.

"I guess you enjoyed the free champagne a bit too much on an empty stomach eh Tasha?" his grin was enormous, and only angered her further.

"What. Are. You. Doing. In. My. Room?" she asked again, punctuating every word with a smack on his bare back.

"Geez Tasha. Ease up. The gal who brought us our room service, along with the booze, was remarking so much about how cute of a honeymooning couple we were, I had to make a point by pushing the cart into your room, and after tipping her generously, shutting the door. Not to mention the fact you got the biggest bed. How did you wrangle that?" he sounded a little put out at the last revelation, and she couldn't help but laugh a bit at his pretend pout.

Natasha rolled her eyes, and collapsed back into the softness of the mattress.

"Okay. You're forgiven. And I haven't got a clue. I guess Fury forgot to order us a room with _two_ king size beds. So what's for breakfast? I'm starving."

Clint eyed her with amusement,

"You're always hungry Tash. Good thing nothing really happened last night, or else you wouldn't be hungry, you would be looking for an ice pack." He smirked at her, and she laughed aloud.

"Right. Like I wouldn't have beat you up for even trying anything."

He shrugged absentmindedly, after helping her out of the bed, and walking briskly out to the kitchen area.

"Never say never. You might end up having fun."

She shook her head,

"Nope. Thanks but I'm good. I've had enough of bad romances to last me a lifetime."

Two silver domes covered what was revealed to be a large hot breakfast, Monte Carlo style. Including a bottle of chilling white wine on the side.

"These people sure like their booze."

"It goes with the gambling."

"You better not be planning to waste all day throwing our hard earned money away." Natasha eyed him carefully, and when he shrugged, she frowned.

"Are you going to at least let me help?"

"Well…I was planning to get started solo. There are tons of beautiful women around here, although, I am supposed to be a married man…Oops." He raised his hands in mock surrender, and Natasha rolled her eyes again.

"Don't remind me…"

"You can go shopping, or do something else girly, but I'm going to go hit the gambling tables, see if I can put some of my earnings to good use. You can always join me later, and I'll take my lovely wife to dinner somewhere nice. So be sure to get a pretty dress while you're shopping." He grinned at her, and started wolfing down his food.

"Should I go get my hair done too dear?" she said, batting her eyes at him in a ridiculous fashion, and she had to admire him for not spitting out his food, or choking on it. He caught himself, swallowed quickly, and then burst out laughing.

"Never mind. You can come along right now. Or, in an hour or so. I still have to get changed. There's probably a dress code around here."

She nodded thoughtfully as she chewed her eggs,

"Yeah, I doubt 'assassin's attire' qualifies as black tie."

As Clint sat at the gambling tables, his mind was far more active than it seemed. Outwardly, he appeared to be lounging in his chair, lazily eyeing his cards. When in truth, he was carefully watching the game, the dealers, and the other players. He knew most of the games were rigged, but he was going to flip the odds in his favor. He wanted to be able to take Nat out to dinner somewhere nice, not just with their fee, but with an expansion he would win over it.

A hush fell over the table, and he glanced up, distracted, wondering what the fuss was about. He nearly dropped his cards. Nat was done shopping it seemed, and had come to meet up with him.

She wore a stunning emerald green silk dress, which clung to her curves in all the right places, her flaming red hair was parted deeply on the side, and was set in deep waves. Her makeup was minimal, but he knew that even without it she was beautiful. All dressed up like this, she outshone every woman in sight. She was like a goddess. His best friend and partner. She took his breath away. After giving himself a couple moments to re-gather his scattered thoughts, and he realized he had just won the hand.

She walked over to where he sat, no longer slouching, and bent down to whisper in his ear,

"How much have you won? Darling." She added with a sly wink.

He grinned at her, carefree charm warming his features,

"Almost the whole pot my love." He muttered, and the rest of the table still only had eyes for her.

She smiled at him,

"Can I sit and watch? I can be your lucky charm."

He shrugged,

"'S'alright with me." he glanced at the dealer, who nodded slowly, his face having turned rather blank after staring at Nat for so long.

"Wonderful." She clapped softly, and sat right down, in Clint's lap. The worst possible place. He knew it would be perfectly normal for their cover of newlyweds, but how was he going to explain later the fact he actually _was_ aroused by his partner's appearance? He dreaded it. He didn't meet her gaze, and called for the next round of cards.

***

"Royal Flush, madam wins."

The dealer announced, and Clint nearly fell out of his chair in shock. He had dozed off and hardly noticed Natasha take over his hand for him.

"How much did we win?" he asked breathlessly, his grey eyes flashing to hers, and her slight smirk and wink was enough to tell him he had the luckiest charm in the whole town.

"Yeessss!" he hissed into her ear, pulling her close, and at the last second, she turned so he kissed her cheek.

He frowned at her, and she pulled away to begin retrieving their winnings.

"Don't pout. We can celebrate later with the most expensive bottle of vodka this place sells." She said quietly, her red curls falling around her face, hiding her expression.

For some reason, Clint had the feeling she might be a bit annoyed with him.

He shrugged, and stood up, careful not to jolt her,

"Sure thing babe. You get the dough, and I'll go order room service."

He missed the frown she shot at him as he walked away. Then she had to turn back to the table, as she realized just how good his tailored grey suit made his butt look.

"Damn this place." She muttered to herself as she gathered up the chips.

Eventually she managed to cash them all, and the total sum was nearly three times what they had been paid by SHEILD.

Not a bad night of gambling.

* * *

Halfway through said bottle of vodka, Clint started to reminisce, and Natasha was afraid she would have to knock him out to get him to be quiet.

She gave him a weary sidelong glance as he babbled on and on about Budapest,

"Yes, I know. Maybe you should hand over the bottle, I've barely had any."

Clint swayed slightly on his feet, and thrust the bottle in her face,

"Don't interrupt me Tash. I was juss sayin'-"

She broke him off, standing up, and wrenching the bottle from his iron grip,

"I'm tired, and not just sleep deprived. I won us a decent amount of cash and all you can do is act like a drunk college girl." She sneered at him, and took a large gulp from the bottle, waiting for his response.

Clint eyed her, the grey in his eyes turning almost pewter,

"Are you saying you would take advantage of me to shut me up?" he waggled his eyebrows in a ridiculous manner, and she couldn't stop herself, she burst out laughing, and almost spit out the vodka.

"You're not very sexy. So that is unlikely."

Her pink lips curled into a smirk and she took another pull on the bottle.

Clint straightened up, all illusion of drunkenness gone in an instant,

"Tash. Why are you doing this? I'm only trying to help you have a good time. It is our vacation. Our chance to loosen up, relax. We're safe here, no monsters and mayhem." He reached up to loosen his tie, and her vision followed his hands, and kept rising to his own lips. He licked them suddenly, as if aware of her watching them.

"I'm sorry Clint. I'm just too wired I suppose. I am having a good time, truly." She gave him a halfhearted smile, and he shook his head, not fooled.

He kicked off his brown leather dress shoes, and shrugged off his dress jacket, tossing it onto the chaise in the mock living room.

"I think we need to talk."

Natasha frowned at the bottle, as if it had personally offended her,

"About what?" she groaned, sounding like a petulant child.

"Us. You. What happened with Loki. We never got to finish talking about it. Thanks to your boy."

Natasha's head fell smack into her hands, the empty bottle fell to the floor, forgotten in an instant.

"My boy? That's a laugh. He was hardly mine. Every time we went out, all I could think was, he's too good for me. He's wasting his time, only because he is so kind. Kindness could get you killed."

Clint had poured himself a glass of sparkling water, sans ice cubes, and he carried it with him as he slumped onto the couch beside her.

He could see the exhaustion etched into her face, and in the way her shoulders looked tight. She sat up straight, but he knew she was moments away from collapsing.

"Maybe we should go get some sleep." He mumbled into the glass, and he held his breath, expecting a smart remark, but only silence. He looked over to see her nodding into her hands. She pulled her head up, and he bit back a smile.

She had smudged her perfect eyemakeup, much like she had almost a month ago. She had been at the end of her rope then. Who had been there to help her back onto her feet? Him. He wasn't going to let her down this time either.

"Let's go. Lead the way Hawkeye." She said resignedly, standing and gesturing grandly towards the bedroom.

He drained the glass in one gulp, and left it on the table beside the couch, gently putting a hand to the small of her back, guiding her carefully to their room.

* * *

Natasha barely had the energy to wash her face and brush her teeth, not even bothering to take on the mess that was her hair. She slinked back out of the bathroom, and almost ripped her dress in her haste to get it off. She slipped under the soft sheets and was half asleep before her head hit the pillow.

Clint knew once she was out, she wouldn't awaken for a while, so he had no qualms about taking a shower first.

The hot water pounded on the back of his neck, and he felt as if his head was clear for the first time since being "Cognitively Recalibrated" by his partner. They were more than partners now, they were the closest of friends. They acted the part of lovers to the rest of the resort, and he thought they pulled it off well. But now it was even starting to affect him. He wasn't sure how much he was pretending anymore, and how much came naturally to him.

He wanted to ask her that night, before she had become beyond reasoning, if they could just try kissing. For practice in case something called for it in public. Of course. She would have laughed at him, or even tried to hit him, he was sure of that. She had even become annoyed at him when he had been putting on the drunk show. She had thought it had been real! How could that be? Was she so out of it she didn't know when he was merely joking with her? They had been playing their parts with the utmost concentration and seriousness, it was time to loosen up, and be spontaneous.

Tomorrow morning he would order breakfast in bed for them. He would possibly try to kiss her before she awoke, and he could claim she had been dreaming. He nodded to himself, and shut off the hot water, he could stay one step ahead of her in this charade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small reference to 'Goldeneye' in this chap. Cookies if you spotted it!


	13. A Bit of Reading

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And what has Captain America been up to?

As sunshine streamed through the small window of his bedroom, Steve Rogers slowly let his eyes open, reluctantly parting from the calm dreamless sleep that had been lingering. The loud traffic outside had woke him up again, but this time, he was not annoyed, merely grateful. He could not keep wishing to return to his Brooklyn, he had to accept the New York he lived in now, and that was all there was to it.

With the large sum of money he had received after returning to his small apartment, he knew very well he could easily pick up and move somewhere nicer, with less outside traffic noise and fewer places on walls needing of paint, but he didn't. He decided he would stay put, and simply use the money for the everyday. He had the strange job of being a national hero, and not the sort of job a man his age normally would. Of course, he only looked in his thirties, he still felt as if he was indeed much older than his compatriots. Except for Natasha. She had made him feel like a blundering youth, trying to figure out how to woo her. Now that she was long gone, and most likely out of the country altogether, he felt as if his head had cleared.

He felt some semblance of heartache at her rejection, but he understood it was for the best. They would after all, need to likely work together again, and that sort of thing could make things awkward.

When he was no longer around her and being driven to distraction by her beauty, he realized how silly he had been. New York was full to bursting with beautiful women, most however, would not have looked twice at him if it had not been for his becoming Captain America. That was yet another reason to stay put in his little apartment. The press would never imagine a hero like him would live somewhere so, common, and so cheap.

They were all wrong.

At heart, Steve was still the courageous but shy, and at times, downright out of place guy. He knew the best place for him to go would be a library somewhere. He needed to catch up on a lot of history. The few conversations he had held with Natasha had been clear evidence of that.

* * *

The amount of books he had checked out from the library would have been impossible for him to carry before, but now, they felt as if they were a bundle of notebooks. Steve carried the heavy tomes over to a nearby café, and made sure to get a table far from everyone else. He didn't want anyone to recognize him, much less wonder just why he was reading so much ancient history. Ancient history for some. Events from a month ago they seemed to him.

He sat down, and cracked open the first book.

He only made it a couple paragraphs before he heard footsteps approaching, and a small voice cleared its throat.

He glanced up to see a girl with big blue eyes, long blond hair, some locks pinned up here and there, but mostly falling on her shoulders. She clutched a blank notepad in her hands, and her pen was poised above it as she asked,

"Can I get you something to drink sir?"

'Sir?' Steve was surprised she didn't recognize him. Up close, there was no way to hide his familiar face. He realized how ridiculous it looked, trying to crouch down behind a stack of history books in the middle of the afternoon at a street side café.

He swallowed and set the book down, careful to keep it open with just a finger so he didn't break the binding,

"Yes please, I'll have a cup of coffee, strong as you can, with just some milk. No sugar."

She nodded to herself and scribbled something on the pad, glancing back up to catch his eye,

"Right away…Captain." She smiled shyly and hurried back inside.

Steve grinned to himself. So maybe she did know who he was after all. He could have sworn he recognized her as well, but he just couldn't place her. The beast of a headache that was most likely brought on from trying to absorb 70 years of history in one sitting was not helping.

***

Steve set the coffee cup back down on its saucer very gently. He knew he needed to be careful, having broken several dishes already back in his apartment from acting quickly and not paying attention. After a couple weeks of lying low, he knew that he couldn't afford to draw that sort of attention towards himself in the middle of a very crowded café in New York.

He still couldn't believe he was spending his vacation trying to catch up on the current time. He supposed that sort of thing hadn't quite made the importance of being an assignment by SHEILD.

He shrugged, and reached over to pick up the other half of the gigantic blueberry muffin that he'd ordered that morning. He had been told it was the best way to start one's morning, besides bagels with lox and cream cheese, by the nice blond waitress he had met the first time he visited the café.

He had meant to note her name the last time he had stopped in, but it seemed every time he tried a lock of her blond hair was covering it. He hadn't wanted to stare pointedly, as that would have been exceedingly rude. He would simply have to ask when she came around to refill his coffee cup.

He had finally conquered much of the written history in the last few days of his reading binges, and was now trying his hand at some popular fiction of the past decades.

Currently, he was barely halfway through the massive novel, "Atlas Shrugged," by Ayn Rand. He had been intrigued because he had greatly enjoyed "The Fountainhead" when it had first been published. Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined he would be trapped in ice so long he woke up to find many of his favorite books and their authors were now dead legends. It seemed that some things only got better with time, and such was the popularity of Ms. Rand's books.

Though Steve disagreed highly with the characters morals and code of ethics, he was still intrigued by the richness of their personalities, and the plot of the story itself. It was an interesting mystery, involving the disappearance of many of the then world's finest minds in science and other fields.

It made Steve wonder what would have happened if Tony Stark, or for that matter, Howard Stark, had not been around to pioneer the age of technology that had saved so many lives, and brought about his own spectacular circumstances.

He had just turned another page, when he heard a delicate cough. He carefully bookmarked his place, and looked up to find the lovely blond waitress.

He smiled at her as she asked,

"More coffee Mister America?" she grinned slightly as he pretended to shush her, then nodded.

"Say, you know my name, but I have the disadvantage of not knowing yours." He blinked at her and she giggled, brushing back her golden mane of hair, revealing the white plastic tag that proclaimed in plain black letters, 'WENDY.'

"'Wendy?' After J.M. Barrie's Wendy?" Steve asked her, and she shrugged slightly,

"Perhaps. That's what I grew up wishing, but the truth is I haven't any idea. I'm adopted. My parents died when I was just a baby in a car crash. So I've been raised by my aunt and uncle. They never knew the story behind my name, but they were great Godparents." Her smile had faded slightly as she had spoken, but now it came back, with a brilliant wattage that even made Steve unable to feel sad. Clearly she had not known her parents enough to be haunted by their deaths, and for that he was grateful on her behalf.

Even though he had been a failure in his own eyes, his parents had loved him and been proud of every achievement he made.

He still had yet to look up their obituaries, as he knew it would lead down a sad and dark path. Eventually, he would have to. Of course, he should also, he would need to, look up what happened to Agent Carter.

But all that could wait. In the sunshine, beneath the bright green umbrella, engrossed in a fictional world with his novel, and with the attention of a lovely girl named Wendy, he was content.

"What do you do when you aren't working?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound like he was prying too much.

Wendy glanced around the café, and then scurried over to the over chair opposite him.

She leaned in close, resting her elbows on the table, and her hair fell in a curtain beside each arm,

"I like to come here on my days off, and sit right over there, and paint. I paint the streets, the people dining, whatever strikes my fancy. I think I even painted you one day."

He mimicked her pose, and looked deep into her warm brown eyes,

"Why are we whispering? Is this some sort of secret?"

She giggled, and sat back slightly in her chair,

"Not really. I just thought it would be fun. And I wasn't sure if you would be okay with the fact I painted you without your permission. Of course the truth is, I actually only sketch here. The painting is done back home. My Godparents offered to send me to art school, but I didn't want them breaking their nest egg, so I got this job, and I'm saving on my own. I do still live with them, so its kind of cheating, but every little bit helps. I also just ride a bike so I save more since I don't need to buy gas."

Steve nodded thoughtfully. He had his great bike, partly a gift from SHEILD, partly out of necessity to travel. His bike was gasoline powered however, even though it was a Stark Industries powered engine, it still required some source of fuel.

Perhaps he could put some of his insane amount of wealth to good use. Anonymously of course.

Wendy glanced up, startled to see she had acquired a new table, and she quickly pulled out her notepad, ripping off the top sheet, and she carefully tucked it under his coffee cup,

"Have a nice day Captain." She said in a cheerful voice, before she was gone in a flash of blond hair.

Steve was left staring at the receipt, and her very tidy scrawl of his order, and then her name at the bottom, and 10 hastily written digits. He looked back up to see she had disappeared inside, but he couldn't wipe the smile off his face.

* * *

Inside the café, Wendy scrambled to get the drinks for her new table, but it had been worth it to get the chance to talk to the super soldier. He was so handsome, so kind, and very smart, judging by all the history books he'd been carrying in to read with a cup of strong coffee. He also had very bewitching bright blue eyes. She had felt as if she might have needed to anchor herself to the table, lest she drown in his gaze. He was very attentive, and appeared to actually listen, unlike most men she had ever spoken with, much less considered dating.

She didn't give out her phone number to just every handsome guy. She knew this one was something special.

* * *

* * *


	14. Spider Threads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to the two spies...

She woke up slowly, and even though she knew where she was, she felt strangely out of sorts. She frowned as a wisp of an ache crept across her forehead. Though she couldn't get a hangover like a normal person, she still felt pain. The next thing she noticed were strong muscular arms around her. she was on her side, and was surrounded by the warmth of another person. She moved her head just a few inches, and saw the calloused and veined hands of her best friend, her partner, and her only true ally.

"Clint. What happened?"

She whispered it aloud, meaning for it to be a rhetorical question, but with a deep rumble like thunder, and a vibration of the strangest sort, she felt and heard Clint reply,

"You drank a whole bottle of vodka Tash. Not something one does every day. Even if you're Russian."

She stretched slowly, and turned a bit to see him grinning at her, his hazel eyes holding a smile as well.

"Breakfast in bed?" he shifted over and grabbed for the telephone.

She moved back and pulled the covers back over her face, trying to hide from the bright morning sunshine.

"Yep. Thanks." He finished the conversation and hung up promptly.

"We've got thirty minutes til they get here. I wonder what we could do . . ."

Natasha sat up, throwing off the covers and glared at Clint,

"Just because we happened to fall asleep in the same bed does not mean-"

Clint stared at her, and his eyes dipped below her own for the briefest of a moment, but she did not miss it.

"Did you just?" she looked down at herself. She had not realized just how little she was wearing when she had begun drinking the night before. She recalled taking off her fancy dress, but she had not remembered the fact she had not put anything back on over her underwear. The smallest black lace panties. No bra.

Clint had just gotten a glimpse of the girls. She hastily pulled the covers back, but the damage had been done.

Clint swallowed heavily, and his voice was hoarse when he spoke,

"Tash, you know it's stupid to put this off. It's been in the works. Inevitable."

He leaned back over, pulled her hands away from where they clutched the sheet up to her chin, and brushed a stray red lock from her face, and he could feel her tremble beneath his hand.

"I'm in love with you. I probably have been for too long. It's safe here. You're safe with me. You know that."

He held her gaze, and though he knew she was scared, he could see she was ok with it, and he moved in to gently kiss her. A quick, soft slow kiss. Nothing too rushed. If Natasha hadn't known better, she could have sworn she felt her heartbeat speed up, and with their closeness, she could feel Clint's speed up as well, only then, when she started to reach for him, did she notice he was shirtless.

The archer and the assassin. The Hawk and Spider. In that moment, they were more than two working parts of SHEILD, they were two halves of a whole.

Clint pulled back, and rested his forehead against hers, mumbling against her lips,

"Why did we wait so long for this? Why did we fight it?"

Natasha couldn't find any excuse, any words to dispute the madness of the truth of the matter. Sometimes you couldn't fight fate, no matter how long you tried.

* * *

Steve had been pacing in his apartment for the last hour, wondering if he needed to wait more than a day to call Wendy. He wasn't sure of how things worked in this time. Excepting the coffee he shared with Natasha, he had never been on a proper date with a girl.

No girls had ever handed him their number when he was next to Bucky. He winced, he shouldn't have thought of that. He thought he had been over Bucky's death. But that was until he had found his obituary while in the library looking for Peggy's.

Never getting the chance to say goodbye to his oldest and best friend hurt almost as bad as not getting that dance with Peggy.

He collapsed on his couch, unable to keep pacing with the painful memories whirling throughout his mind.

When he woke up, it was after sundown. He hadn't realized how tired he had been. Though he didn't feel fatigue like normal people did, staying up for a week straight did eventually take its toll on even him.

He sat up slowly, and felt something in his hand. He glanced down to find he had crushed the napkin with Wendy's number on it while he slept.

He glanced at the clock, nearly midnight. Much too late to call. He would call her first thing tomorrow morning. Hopefully she would have Saturday off.

* * *

As Clint fell back against the sheets, catching his breath, he noticed that his fellow spy had gone very quiet. He brushed his hand over his forehead, marveling at how quickly she had gotten him to work up a sweat. He looked over to see Natasha lying on her side, curling towards him. He stroked her hair, kissed softly along her cheek and down her jaw, while his hands slowly and carefully caressed her side.

He glanced down, seeing the dark purplish shadows on her knees, bruises from dropping to ground so many times during the battle, so roughly that they were still healing. He gently traced the edges of her kneecaps with a fingertip and she looked up at him, her green eyes serious.

"They used to tell me they thought I could be immortal, or at least able to outlive my own children, if i could have any. Now i know better. All our time is limited. We can't count on the future."

Clint nodded understandingly. He couldn't completely sympathize with her strange condition, but he knew enough of her past that would make anyone wish for death over seeing horrors like the kind she had again.

"It's okay. You're with me right now. We're safe. Somewhere beautiful. We're gonna be okay for now." He moved up to kiss her forehead, and she smiled. "Let's get some rest, you've worn me out beyond logical thought. Or too far into it."

Natasha smirked at his words and nodded against his chest, snuggling closer, and letting her eyes fall shut.

* * *

Loki closed his eyes tightly, as if that would stop the truth of what he had seen from being real. The most delightful pawn he had ever played with was now falling for someone who was good for her. Someone she had been pretending, fighting with all her might not to love.

'Love is for children.' She had told him with a snarl.

He smiled sadly, they were all children inside still. Sometimes he even felt the ache, to just go back in time, when he and Thor were still close friends, brothers, playmates. How simple it had been. Now he lived under the shadow of suspicion, the shade of Thor's magnificent glory that he would never be able to surpass. No amount of good he did would change anything.

Thor would remain steadfast in his love for him, but his father, his _adopted_ father would never forgive him completely.

Unless . . .

Unless there was something he could do to prove he was completely on the right side.

He glanced outside of his cell, spotting a guard who was doing his utmost to pretend he wasn't being ordered to guard a member of the royal family.

"You there! Soldier. Tell Thor I wish to speak to him. I wish to communicate with the humans."

The guard called out to another, who took off.

Loki didn't bother mentioning he didn't actually need permission to speak to the humans, but he knew it would make Thor feel better to think he was helping.

Surely the dark skinned human of SHEILD would have a way for Loki to prove himself.


	15. A Final Night in Paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All the wayward Avengers prepare to re-unit

"Hi. This is Steven. Rogers. We talked the other day at the café? I was just calling to see if you wanted to join me for dinner sometime this week? Whenever you are free. Or maybe just a walk in the park? Uhh…so call me whenever you get this? Have a nice night. Bye."

He hung up the phone feeling completely stupid. The great American hero could hardly talk to a woman, much less leave a decent sounding message for said woman.

His head fell into his hands, and he tugged on his hair until he finally started to feel a slight sting.

"This is pointless. I need to just go somewhere. Maybe the library." He muttered aloud, and leapt up, eager to escape the silent telephone.

He grabbed his worn brown leather jacket, and slipped his keys into his pocket, striding out the door and into the calm night.

The noise of the city was at its lowest point after midnight, at least where Steve was walking. The cool night air helped clear his head, and he no longer felt stupid for calling Wendy. She was probably good and didn't stay up nearly as late as he did. When you'd slept for almost a century, it didn't quite hold the same appeal as it did to everyone else.

By the time the sky had begun to resemble a painting, with hues of soft pink and orange coloring the fading clouds, Steve returned home.

He made his way to the bathroom, quickly shedding his clothes and hopping into the shower.

The roar of the pounding water filled his ears and he failed to hear the phone ringing. The machine clicked and the sweet melodious voice of Wendy could be heard throughout the living room, but he had started to hum a tune he had overheard walking about town.

When he stepped out and began toweling off, he realized he had gone almost 24 hours without eating; surely Dr. Erskine would have disapproved of him trying to test his limits off the battlefield.

He shuffled over to the kitchen, still rubbing his hair, and enjoying the chilled air outside of the steamy bathroom.

The coffee machine he had gotten was simple enough, and practically as old as he was, at least it was styled that way.

After he had downed a large mug, he began to fix himself a hearty omelet. One thing his mother had taught him, once he left their house, he needed to be able to feed himself. Before the serum, it had been an easy enough task. Now he could eat nearly four or five times what his old body needed for fuel.

He flicked on the small TV that sat across from the kitchen table, resting on the counter, its antennae pointed towards the window, to pull in the best reception possible.

He channel surfed for a few minutes, before an urgent news report captured his attention. He turned the volume up, and was stunned to recognize the Stark Tower in Manhattan underneath the fire and smoke. The news report said a large gas explosion had been the cause of the damage, and no one had been hurt, the man himself had in fact been on the other side of the country.

Steve frowned, this didn't bode well. Whenever the news said gas explosion, when it was clearly something more sinister, it meant the government was involved, or more likely, SHEILD.

It didn't take long, he barely finished the last bite of his breakfast, when he heard his special communicator going off in the other room.

He leapt out of his chair and ran to answer it.

"Rogers."

"Captain, this is Nick Fury. There's been an incident at Stark Tower, and now I've gotten confirmed reports of a similar attack at Stark's Malibu mansion."

Steve felt his blood run cold, even though it was physically impossible,

"I just saw on the news about Stark Tower, but there was nothing about Starks house. What happened?"

"Right now, all I know is that Stark's made a few powerful enemies in a short amount of time. Even I don't know if he survived the attack on his mansion. That was the last place he checked in from. Seconds before the first missile hit. We had surveillance on the house of course, but some sort of virus took out the system long enough to keep us from stopping the attack. We need you to come in. I'm sorry to have to cut your rest period short, but your country needs you."

Steve nodded, stopped pacing around his bedroom, and walked over to his closet to begin pulling out some worn jeans, a white t-shirt, and his favorite brown leather jacket.

"I just need to make a call and I'll be there."

"Good. Fury out."

The communicator shut off by itself, and Steve quickly got dressed, and then returned to the kitchen to put his dishes in the sink.

The blinking red light on his machine caught his eye, before he could start hunting for Wendy's number to call her back.

He pushed play, and grimaced. She sounded so happy, and now he would have to call to tell her he was unable to make the date _he_ asked her on.

He was careful not to reveal anything specific, only that he had been called unexpectedly back to work. Knowing who he was probably was enough of a hint, and she told him she would still be free when he returned. He didn't bother telling her it could be as long as a month or more.

With one last lingering look at his warm apartment, he grabbed his motorcycle keys and was out the door.

* * *

Natasha's legs were beginning to grow a bit warm, simply lying in the sun on the flawless white sand beach, with only her waist and up shaded by a feeble resort umbrella, and she sat up to try and locate Clint, and see if she couldn't wheedle him into putting some more sunscreen on her.

She squinted and scanned the surf, finally spotting him. He was riding a decent sized wave, and when he spotted her, he gave her a small salute. She waved back, and pointed up to the sun, hoping he would get the general idea.

When he splashed back onto the beach, and began to run her way, she laughed. He looked so perfect, clutching the surfboard in one arm, running a hand through his soaked dirty blond hair with the other, muscles bulging and skin sparkling in the sun. He could have been a pretty model, for something manly like cologne or sportswear, but instead he'd been drawn into the world of covert operations and fighting for his country under cover of darkness.

"Hey Nat. Getting a little overheated are you? Perhaps you need to go for a dip. . ." he made his way towards her, as if to pick her up and throw her over his broad shoulder, intent on dunking her in the moderately cool water, which he was more than capable of, but she shook her head.

"I'm fine. I like the warmth, but I don't want any sunburn. Would you mind?" she held out the tube of nearly one hundred SPF, or as close as she could get. She didn't want a tan, but rather to protect her fair skin, and keep its semi-paleness.

Clint shrugged, and collapsed on the towel beside her,

"Sure thing. Did you need another drink too?"

She shook her head,

"Any more alcohol this early in the morning with all this sun and I'll get too sleepy."

She smirked at him.

"Did you have elaborate plans for the afternoon?" Clint asked innocently.

"Mmhmm. Something involving you, less of that," she gestured to his dark grey boardshorts, "And maybe something more tasty." She then indicated the sun lotion he was currently massaging into her thighs and when his hands started to drift upwards, she smacked them.

"Not here! Anyone could see us."

Clint shrugged again,

"All they see is two newlyweds unable to keep their hands off each other. That's almost what we are. Besides, you're so beautiful, I like being the envy of every man here." He smirked back at her, and she rolled her eyes beneath her dark sunglasses.

"Uh-huh. And common decency doesn't apply when on vacation I suppose?"

Clint scoffed,

"Since when have you cared about decency? 'Black Widow,' seductress as well as skilled killer. You live for indecency."

Natasha sighed, and leaned back on the towel, staring up at the umbrella which hid the crystal blue sky from her,

"You're right of course. It's just, being here with you, it's the first time I've felt like a normal person. A woman simply living for pleasure and love. No missions, no hidden agendas."

Clint paused from where he had been gently squeezing her lower calves,

"Tasha, you sound like your old self. The one I only read about in your file. You didn't have much time to remain so, but I almost wish you could have. At least for a year."

She shrugged,

"Consider this my long awaited journey back to being just that. Innocent. Clean. With an empty ledger."  
She shuddered slightly as she recalled that day on the helicarrier, where Loki had managed to get to her. To break through her charade. She hoped he was getting his just dues on Asgard.

"C'mon, let's have another Pina Colada, I'll share it with you so you won't become a drunk sleepy mess."

Natasha sat up and her hand shot out to grip his wrist tightly,

"Let's make it two." She pulled him in, and captured his lips in a fierce kiss, they were slightly salty from the ocean, but the kiss itself was sweet.

Her innocence might have been robbed from her at an early age, but it was never too late to start rediscovering the joy of living.

* * *

That night, after a delicious dinner of crisp fried oysters, and fresh lobster, and a frenzied session of animalistic sex, Natasha lay content in Clint's strong arms. She was wide awake, even as he was snoring gently, and his calm breathing soothed her like the ocean waves only a few hundred feet outside their door.

This time they shared, it was something they had needed, but hadn't known it. A chance to connect on a deeper level than simply fellow spies. It seemed through all the fights they won, all the regimes she toppled, and the bad guys Clint had helped SHIELD toss in jail, he had also lost a bit of his humanity. He only showed it around her. With everyone else, he was cool, indifferent, but got the job done. Then again, during the battle of New York City, he had managed to reveal a quick wit; something she had almost forgotten existed in his calculating archer's mind.

She hoped he would let it out more often.

Something was glowing out of the corner of her eye, and she turned, shifting carefully so she didn't wake him, to see her SHEILD beacon gleaming. His was on the table beside hers, and it was also blinking in sync.

She sighed, and gently shook him. He groaned and shifted beside her, mumbling something about sore muscles.

"Clint!" she hissed, "Wake up. SHEILD is calling us."

She reluctantly climbed out of bed and pushed the button on her cuff,

"Yo."

"This is Director Fury, you need to report in."

"Um. We're on leave, in hiding, like you told us. Or rather, heavily suggested."

"Yes, I know. But there's been an incident at Stark Tower. I need you both stateside."

Natasha glanced over at her partner, who was now alert, and listening carefully. He gave her a questioning look that said, 'How does he know I'm with you?'

She shrugged, 'Fury's not dumb. I'm sure he tracked us.'

She replied,

"We'll be there as soon as we can."

"I'll have a chartered plane waiting for you in London. From there it'll bring you to our main base."

"Understood."

The cuff stopped glowing, and Clint's did the same.

Natasha sighed, her hands moving to rest on her hips,

"Damn. And to think, I actually thought we'd get a full week off."

Clint fell back onto the sheets,

"Can't we sleep a little bit longer?"

"No. You heard Fury. Something's wrong. A small malfunction with Starks armor wouldn't have him this bothered. Something big is happening. We've gotta move out now. Let's get packed."

Clint groaned, and slowly started to climb out of bed.

"Don't be so loud. I was sleeping."

"Don't be such a baby. We've got time for a shower, c'mon." Natasha poked him in the ribs, and started walking towards the bathroom, swaying her hips with an exaggerated motion, before turning slightly to beckon him with a finger,

"You know you want to."

Clint chuckled,

"You'll be the death of me Tasha."


	16. Priority Alpha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erm so this is where i apologize. I didn't include Bruce in this story at all, except for a bit appearance in the beginning, and i'm sorry. I just don't have the muse to write him. He's got a much bigger role in my FRIENDS au, and i hope you can forgive me.   
> I also hadn't the faintest clue about IM3, so bear with the minor canonical differences.   
> and also part 3 of this series will reveal exactly who Jenna is.  
> and p.s. isn't the chapter name cool? I just thought it was..heh

****

Steve pulled up outside the small building, knowing that it was going to be much different than it looked on the outside, and after being ushered inside and nudged towards an elevator, he was unsurprised to find himself proved correct.

He went _down_ what felt like the entire length of the building before the car finally stopped. When he stepped out, he found himself in a large space much like the deck of the Helicarrier, except with much harsher lighting.

Who knew just how far underground they were?

Nick Fury stood facing the large display screens, and Steve coughed slightly to reveal himself, and when Fury turned, Steve was shocked to see how grim he looked. More so than usual.

"What exactly is going on Sir?"

Nick shook his head,

"We're still waiting on Barton and Romanoff, and I don't like repeating myself. Just have a seat over there, and if you need anything, let an agent know."

Steve's blond eyebrows rose in surprise. The SHEILD director was being much more secretive than ever. Something bad must have happened.

The doors flew open with a bang, and Steve turned to see the Black Widow in full gear, and Hawkeye right behind her.

"Director Fury. Let's start this briefing, cause I'm about to expire from curiousity."

Clint glanced over at Steve, and nodded hello.

Nick strode over, his long black trenchcoat swishing about his legs as he came to stand before them.

He crossed his arms in front of his broad chest, and shook his head,

"We can't begin yet, we're missing one more person."

Natasha raised a red eyebrow in confusion, and glanced around at the small group, not even feeling a pang as she met Steve's eyes, she merely blinked,

"Who are we expecting? Surely not Bruce."

Nick shook his head again, then looked up, his face clouding, and the door opened again, and a pair of footsteps began heading their direction.

The few Avengers turned to see a small girl, who appeared at the most, eighteen years of age, and someone they had all hoped to forget.

"I believe you're all acquainted. Loki, please sit. And you are?" Nick held out his leather glove clad hand to the young girl, who looked very uncomfortable, and Natasha couldn't blame her. God knew why the manic Loki was escorting her anywhere, and God knew even less what on EARTH HE WAS DOING BACK HERE.

She voiced her opinion in much the same volume and wording, and Nick whirled to pin her with a piercing gaze,

"Sit down Agent Romanoff."

Clint blinked and tried to keep from laughing as she finally did so, with an annoyed huff.

She did NOT want to be in the same room, much less the same planet as the tall dark haired Asgardian.

The young girl, who was looking more and more intimidated every second, took Nick's hand, and shook it firmly,

"I'm Jenna. I guess I'm here because of what happened. At least that what he tells Me." she jerked her head in Loki's direction, and he merely nodded.

Nick smiled tightly,

"That is correct. From what he tells me, you are next in line after Priority Alpha."

Natasha was fast losing her patience and composure, and was seconds away from jumping up and blaming Loki, when Steve surprised them all, and raised his hand.

Nick turned in his direction, and nodded.

"Forgive me. I've called you all here because of the attacks."

Clint look slightly lost,

"What exactly happened? Is Tony alright?"

The girl, Jenna audibly gasped, and Nick frowned,

"Haven't you two been watching the news? Stark Tower is nothing more than a pile of twisted metal and rubble. His Malibu mansion didn't fare much better. Tony Stark has been attacked by a man who goes simply by the name 'The Mandarin.' From what we know, he's the head of a terrorist organization in the middle east. When I say Terror, I mean it. He's above and beyond the mayhem he," At this he nodded towards Loki, "Could dream of being capable of. He's in league with someone inside our own country, and bent on either controlling the world or destroying it."

Natasha held up her hand.

"What. Are. You. Saying? Are you saying he's more dangerous than the God of Mischief?"

Nick looked pained,

"I'm afraid so. The council on Asgard, with Loki's assistance, proved beyond a doubt he was not actually in control of his actions during the entire assault on Earth. He was possessed, just like he controlled Agent Barton and Doctor Selvig."

Loki stood up, and bowed slightly towards the agents,

"I wish to offer my apologies to you both. It was only after being imprisoned by my father's strong magic the hold on me was broken. I had been under the spell of the Other. As soon as I realized this, I went directly to Thor, who spoke to the AllFather, and I came here. I had been watching and observing Jenna, merely intent on causing a bit of mischief, but I luckily came in at the right time to intervene. I was with her when the news broke of the attack on Tony Stark's home."

Nick rapped on the table, drawing attention back to himself, and Loki nodded, and sat back down.

"The planes that fired on the mansion were unmarked, and due to unfortunate circumstances regarding an issue with the security cameras, we have no way to track _those_ planes. Also, as far as we know, Stark is off the grid."

Jenna sniffed quietly and Natasha gave in to her curiosity,

"Just who are you exactly? How do you know Stark?"

Loki spoke up, laying a hand on the girl's shoulder,

"It's a long story, but she had personal relations with him, and therefore could be used against him, if this Mandarin appears again. This is why her protection is imperative. If, or rather when, Stark makes contact, we'll have to assume he's being monitored."

Clint sat back in his chair heavily,

"Well this is just great. Another crazed maniac who wants to take over the world. Sorry, but I'm still not over having someone inside my brain, robbing me of my free will." He glared at Loki, who merely shrugged, unable to argue.

Nick raised a hand,

"I know you're all uncertain. These are uncertain times. If Stark is compromised, if any of the Iron Man suits or designs falls into the wrong hands, we could be in more trouble. The only good news is all Phase Two weaponry is still intact. The Tesseract is no longer on earth, and is not going to be a playing piece in this upcoming fight. For it will be a fight. Whether it's to avenge the death of your teammate, or simply to stop this madman, it will come. All I can ask is that you do not let me down."

Steve frowned, and found himself actually struggling with the idea that Stark could be dead. It was ridiculous, that man was as tough as they came. He could match everyone with his armor, and in a battle of wits, he had even managed to hold off a possessed Loki.

Eventually he nodded, meeting Director Fury's eyes,

"I'm ready. I don't like the idea of having to work with Loki, but he's got to be on our side if you trust him."

Loki smiled sadly,

"I am sorry. For everything. My brother will also be here, as soon as this evening, as late as tomorrow. He will convince you further if you still doubt me."

Clint and Natasha exchanged glances, Thor wouldn't have let Loki out of his sight if there was any chance he would have a relapse and go batshit again.

The spies shrugged, and stood up, nodding toward Fury,

"We're in. but we traveled straight here without breakfast, is there any coffee in this cave?"

Nick cracked a smile, and gestured over to the end of the hall, when a silver door lay,

"In there you'll find plenty of that. Thank you for your cooperation." He held Natasha's gaze, and she allowed herself to return his smile.

The two spies left the room quickly, and Loki rose, gently taking the girl's hand, and Steve heard him ask if she wanted any refreshments, she nodded, and they took their leave.

Steve watched Nick's face, and all that he saw was exhaustion.

"Do you really think he's. . .gone?"

Nick shook his head,

"I doubt it. He probably just needed to disappear for a while. Regroup. To think. The last battle took a lot out of him. The last time we spoke he told me he hadn't been sleeping well. He was working on something. He only took about two weeks off before getting right back to designing a faster, better, tougher version of his suit. That man knows how to party, but he doesn't know how to balance. If he's not killing himself with work, he's killing himself with debauchery."

Steve nodded,

"I can't argue with you. Do you happen to know how long it will be until we hear from him?"

"Who knows."

"It's just, there's someone, someone who might be missing me. Can I make phone calls from down here?"

Nick looked over at the super soldier, recalling how they had first met, and how devastated he had looked as he was faced with the modern world.

"Of course. Follow me."

***

**END**

* * *


End file.
